


Ease

by trufflemores_Glee_fic



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 23:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores_Glee_fic/pseuds/trufflemores_Glee_fic
Summary: They've got this whole boyfriends-in-New-York thing down to a tee.





	Ease

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody! After receiving multiple requests to repost my old Glee fics, I have created a second AO3 account to do so. I hope you can forgive me for flooding the Glee pages over the next few days. 
> 
> I also ask for kindness regarding the quality of these fics. Over on my main AO3 account (trufflemores), I have written over 150 Flash fics; end result, my current work is of a higher quality than these older pieces. But I know how beloved old fics can be, and I respect that something I consider sub-par can be someone else's favorite. 
> 
> So I hope you enjoy this fic and any others you choose to read. If you choose to do so, I would also be happy to have you on board 'The Flash' bandwagon as well.
> 
> Kick back, relax, and enjoy. You have been one of the greatest audiences I have ever had.
> 
> Affectionately yours,  
> trufflemores

"Oh, hey, babe," Blaine said, not looking up from his video game when he felt Kurt's arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, "I was just--"  He paused the game when Kurt buried his nose against his neck, exhaling heavily.  "Everything okay?" he asked, reaching up to rub Kurt's arm gently and clicking out of his current game entirely when Kurt shook his head fractionally.

He made room for him on the couch, relocating the pillows next to himself while flipping through the channels until he found an old episode of House Hunters.  Kurt didn't object, merely nudging Blaine's arm a little until he held it up so Kurt could crawl underneath it, burrowing into his side and wrapping his fingers tightly in Blaine's shirt.

Unconcerned that the gesture would doubtless wrinkle the fabric, Blaine reached up to rub his hand slowly up and down Kurt's back, resting his cheek against the top of his head for a time in silence.  "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, nuzzling the side of Kurt's head a little.  "There's still some leftover pasta in the fridge.  I could heat it up for you," Blaine offered.  It was only seven, still light out by summer standards, but Kurt had been working since nine that morning, pushing a long, tiresome day that Blaine could feel bearing down on his shoulders, hunched inward.

"Let me help," he said, nuzzling Kurt's hair until he sighed again and nodded, pushing away from him so that they could both amble into the kitchen.

They didn't speak as Blaine reheated the pasta that Blaine had made for dinner, Kurt's hip pressed against the counter as he watched.  It was easier to let the pseudo-silence build between them, softened by the edges as the TV hummed in the background, golden light still shining in through the windows.  They didn't need to speak; Blaine knew how demanding Kurt's schedule could be, how many expectations he put on himself to meet the rising costs.  He took evening classes at NYADA, collaborated with the elderly residents of the Lexington Home on various upcoming projects, consulted regularly with Isabelle Wright about a future Vogue dot com internship (although, Blaine was pleased to note, those correspondences seemed to largely ease the burden of Kurt's stress even if it did nothing for his work schedule), and worked all-but-full-time at the Spotlight Diner. 

By comparison, Blaine's evening courses and part-time position at the Spotlight Diner seemed modest; equally intense, but notably less time-consuming.  It gave him more time to settle into city life, strolling through parks and hanging out at coffee shops whenever he wasn't otherwise engaged, either on his own or with Kurt.

Handing Kurt a bowl and serving himself a second helping, Blaine led the way back to the couch and let Kurt find a comfortable space against his side, both of them nibbling on their food halfheartedly as they watched a realtor lead an unimpressed couple around LA, Kurt too focused on his own misery and Blaine too focused on Kurt to eat.

At the staggering pronouncement that the property that the couple was currently looking at cost 1.8 million dollars, Kurt said, "I'm so glad we live in New York."

Looking around -- mentally comparing the loft with the tiny shoebox apartments that the couple had previously invested in -- Blaine couldn't help but agree.  Both cities had their own charms, but New York was theirs, problems and all.  It might not have the best subway system in the world or the cleanest streets, certainly not the friendliest residents or most laidback lifestyle, but it was their city of challenges, their city of conquests.

"Me, too," Blaine agreed, kissing the top of Kurt's head as Kurt shuffled even closer, tucking his feet up underneath him.

As long as he had Kurt, then he'd take all the challenges.  Without saying a word, he knew that Kurt felt the same way, the tension slowly seeping from his shoulders as they unwound together, safe from the rest of the world.

He couldn't protect Kurt from everything in the city beyond, but Blaine vowed to make their space safe for him within.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Please let me know if there are any weird coding errors in the fic! I did my best to weed them out before publication, but some will inevitably slip through the cracks.


End file.
